Cemetery Dance

"I've worked with him on half a dozen cases. He's gotten to the bottom of every one, brought the killers to justice."

"To Pendergast's justice, you mean. The way he goes about gathering evidence, I doubt Pendergast could ever convict his perps in a court of law. Maybe it's no coincidence they end up dead before trial."

D'Agosta didn't reply. He just pushed his full plate aside. This breakfast hadn't gone as he'd hoped. He felt weary — weary and confused.

Then Hayward did something he didn't expect. She reached across the table, took his hand. "Look, Vi

"I know that. And I appreciate it, I really do."

"It's just that you came so close to losing everything on that last case of Pendergast's you were involved with. The commissioner's got his microscope on you now. I know how important your career is to you, I don't want to see it jeopardized again. Will you at least promise me you won't let him draw you into any more illegal expeditions? You're in charge of this case. In the end, you're the guy who's going to be testifying up there on the witness stand about what you did — and didn't do."

D'Agosta nodded. "Okay."

She squeezed his hand, smiled.

"Remember when we first met?" he asked. "I was the seasoned veteran, the big bad NYPD lieutenant."

"And I was the rookie sergeant, fresh from the transit police."

"That's right. Seven years ago, if you can believe it. Back then, I kind of looked after you. Watched your back. Fu

Her eyes dropped back to the tabletop. A faint color rose in her cheeks.

"But you know what, Laura? I kind of like it this way."

An urgent, breathless voice intruded from over Hayward's shoulder. "Is that him?"

He looked past Hayward to the next booth. A ski

"It is him! I recognize him from last night's news!" Dropping the phone into her purse, the woman slipped out of her own booth and came over. "You're the lieutenant investigating the zombii murders, right?"

The waitress, overhearing this, came over. "He is?" The ski

Now an elderly woman, catching wind of the conversation, stepped forward. " Please,Officer," she implored, as a rat — sized Yorkshire terrier peeped out from a basket cradled in her arms. "I haven't slept in days. Neither have my friends. The city's doing nothing. You'vegot to put a stop to this!"

D'Agosta looked from one to the next in amazement, temporarily speechless. Nothing like this had happened before, even in high — profile cases. New Yorkers were usually jaded, worldly, dismissive. But these people — the fear in their eyes, the urgency in their voices, was unmistakable.

He gave the ski

"I hope you keep that promise!" The women retreated, talking animatedly, joined in common cause.

D'Agosta glanced back at Hayward. She returned the gaze, as nonplussed as he was. "That was interesting," she finally said. "This issue is getting really big, really fast, Vi

"Shall we?" he asked her, indicating the door.

"You go ahead. I think I'll stay and finish my coffee."

He slipped a twenty onto the table. "See you at the evidence a

When she nodded, he turned and — as gently as he could — pressed his way through the small huddle of anxious faces.

Chapter 42

D'Agosta dreaded having anything to do with the new evidence a

D'Agosta presented the paperwork to a secretary behind bulletproof glass and then he, Hayward, Pendergast, and Bertin cooled their heels in the waiting area — no chairs, no magazines, just a portrait of the governor — while the paperwork was processed. After fifteen minutes, a brisk woman, as wrinkled as a mummy and yet remarkably animated, a radio in one hand, appeared and presented them all with badges and cotton gloves.

"This way," she said in a clear, clipped voice. "Stay together. Touch nothing."

They followed her down a stark, fluorescent hallway lined with painted and numbered steel doors. After an interminable walk, she halted before one of the doors, swept a card through its key slot, and punched a code into the security pad with machine — like precision. The door sprang ajar. In the room beyond, evidence cabinets lined three of the walls and a Formica table stood in the center beneath a set of bright lights. In the old days, the evidence would already have been laid out on the table. Now, photographs of the evidence were there, next to a corresponding list. They had to make specific requests for items — no more browsing.

"Stand behind the table," came the brisk voice.

They filed in and did as instructed, Hayward, Pendergast, and the a

"All right now," said the woman, standing behind the table. "Have we done this before?"

D'Agosta said nothing. The rest murmured, "No."

"You can request only one evidence set at a time. I'm the only one allowed to touch the evidence, unless you need to perform a close examination — which, I should add, needs to be pre — approved. Tests may be ordered through written requests. Now, this piece of paper here lists all the evidence collected under the warrant, as well as other evidence assembled in the case. As you can see, there are photographs of everything. Now—" She smiled, her face almost cracking. " — what would you like to examine?"

"First," said Pendergast, "can you bring out the evidence we retrieved from Colin Fearing's crypt?"

After a delay, the tiny paper coffin and its faux — skeletal contents were retrieved. "What next?" the woman said.

"We'd like to see the trunk from the Ville and its contents." D'Agosta pointed. "That picture, there."

The woman ran a lacquered finger down the list, tapped a number, turned, moved to one of the evidence cabinets, opened a drawer, slid out a tray. "It's rather too big for me," she said.

D'Agosta stepped forward. "I'll help you."

"No." The woman made a call on her handheld radio, and a few minutes later a burly man came in and helped her lift the trunk onto the table, then took up a position in the corner.

"Open it, please, and lay out the contents," said D'Agosta. He hadn't had a good look at it when they'd taken it from the Ville.